


Scram

by LaTessitrice



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: 23 skidoo, Gen, Remix, Tasertricks Remix Christmas Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-14
Updated: 2014-01-14
Packaged: 2018-01-08 17:50:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1135641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaTessitrice/pseuds/LaTessitrice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remix of 23 Skidoo by Silver Rum Runner. What if it was Ian the intern who found himself in Loki's cell instead of Darcy?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scram

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [23 Skidoo](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1044699) by [SilverRumRunner](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverRumRunner/pseuds/SilverRumRunner). 



> This remix is a fair bit darker than the original and contains absolutely no sexual tension.
> 
> Thanks to Jen (Octoberland) for a speedy beta reading.

Ian threw a sideways glance at Darcy, wondering if she had any more idea what was going on than he did. Because he was pretty sure he was hallucinating. But no, she was staring at the same patch of sky where Jane—technically, his boss, even if he’d barely met her—and that guy had just vanished.

That guy. The one with all the muscle and the red cape. Him. With the hammer.

Darcy had joked around about knowing the god of thunder, but he’d thought it was all part of her peculiar sense of humour. Not an actual thing.

“Excuse me,” he said to the police officer who’d been taking down his details, who barely looked his way, too busy gawping at the sky. He strode over to Darcy. “What do we do now?”

She glanced around. “23 skidoo.”

He blinked at her. Was this another joke? A code he was supposed to know? He’d signed up as an intern because of his science background and the need for practical lab experience, not this weirdness. “What?”

Darcy had the temerity to roll her eyes at him, and if he hadn’t felt like he’d been streamrollered then maybe he’d have bristled at her reaction, but as it was he was a whisker’s edge from hysteria. She slapped the neutrometer into his hands and turned on her heel. “I mean, let’s get the hell out of here.”

Right. Scram. It took him a moment to follow at her heels, and it was clear she had no idea where she was going. This was a dodgy area, even it was crawling with police, and they were moving further away from anyone who might rescue them if they got mugged. Not that they had anything worth stealing—not even the car keys, which Darcy kept muttering about as they jogged. Hardly his fault—those kids should’ve told him before he did it.

Darcy halted when two officers appeared at the zebra crossing ahead, both of them looking in their direction. One made a comment to the other, and though Ian couldn’t hear it, he was regretting giving his actual name and address instead of making one up. He’d been trespassing, for a start, and throwing that stuff around probably counted as littering. His mum would be furious if he got a criminal conviction for something so petty just as he was entering the job market.

“We need to split up. Meet me back at the lab.” Darcy said, and didn’t so much as give him a backwards glance as she sprinted away, leaving him with no option but to dart down the side street.

Around a corner, a cluster of people in black suits loomed on the pavement. They weren’t Londoners, he knew that just by the way they held themselves, and avoiding them seemed like a very good idea. God only knew what would happen to him if he got mixed up with the American government. He’d heard all about the people who disappeared when they got involved with the weird shit that had been happening lately, and Thor swooping Doctor Foster off into the aether definitely counted as weird shit. He slipped down an alley instead, the Underground sign lit up at the end of it. Not that he could afford to use the Tube, but at least he could get his bearings. 

This was not what he signed up for. He wasn’t getting paid. He wasn’t even getting his travel costs covered, which meant he was having to cycle everywhere (always a death risk) or walk. He’d lost half a stone and had to quit smoking since moving to London, but he was also poorer than he’d been as a student. When he got back to the lab—which he hoped he had the address for stored in his phone—he was quitting.

Wait, where did the Underground sign go? Dusk had been creeping in but it was suddenly a lot darker and the atmosphere had changed, all the moisture from the rain sucked away and replaced with clammy cold. He was inside, he could tell from the taste of the air—a little stale, like it hadn’t been circulating much.

In front of him, within arm’s reach, a wall stretched out, flickering with golden light. He thought it was glass—it had that shine to it—and beyond he could just make out a gloomy stone corridor. He reached out to touch the web of light.

“I wouldn’t do that.” Ian jumped at the words, which came from over his shoulder. “It will leave a nasty burn.” 

He span to face the speaker, who reclined on a huge bed, seemingly indifferent. Ian recognised him: pale face, slicked-back black hair and cold, penetrating eyes. “You-you’re that guy. Th-the one who attacked New York.”

“Ah. A Midgardian.” The man sat up, if the way he rolled his body upright so elegantly could be described as plainly as sitting. “And how did you get in here?”

“Here? I-I was just walking and then I was here and—oh shit, is this all tied to that vortex thing and the bloke with the big hammer?” He was babbling, but it was better than pissing his pants in terror. Marginally. Somehow the man—Loki, that was his name—had crept closer without Ian even seeing it happen. When Ian mentioned the hammer, his eye twitched, just a little, and that had been enough for Ian’s bladder to leak. It was like keeping eye contact with a rattlesnake. It wasn’t going to do you any good because it could move faster than you, and when it did strike, it would hurt.

“Here is what is going to happen, mortal,” Loki said, so quietly Ian might not have heard it if he wasn’t listening so intently. “You are going to answer all my questions and then we’re going to retrace your path out of this cell. Then, when I am done with you, if you have done all I have asked, I may be inclined to show you mercy.”

Ian whimpered. It was pathetic but he couldn’t manage anything else. Not with that reptilian gaze trained on him.

“You will be no less dead, but you’ll be thankful for the mercy all the same. Shall we begin?”


End file.
